


Darus Week 2016 Written Prompts

by bigcatsandkatanas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mild cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigcatsandkatanas/pseuds/bigcatsandkatanas
Summary: Thought I'd document them here for safe keeping. Day 2: Zombie Free AU, Jesus is home alone and finds an intruder in his garage.Day 3: Daryl and Paul's romance is the worst kept secret ever. Michonne and Carol are always the first to know everything.Day 4: Modern day zombie free high school AU Daryl never really quite fit in, carrying the Dixon name always came with trouble but there's one guy willing to look past all the gossip.





	1. Echo

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Prompt: How would you see Daryl and Jesus if the apocalypse didn’t happen?
> 
> Author's note: Okay I wrote this in an hour basically so sorry for any errors. I basically ran with the idea that zombies do exist in cinema in this AU with the exchange that there’s no actual zombie apocalypse.

Saturday nights were meant for popcorn and movies. This particular time Paul had to do it alone. Sure it was a little lonely, but he wasn’t about to break tradition. He found solace in sitting in a room dimly lit by one warm lamp at his side and the flat screen tv. Halloween was coming up so he decided to watch a scary movie. 

Always a fan of indie flicks, the movie Pontypool really stood out to him. _It wasn’t like anything before_ , raved one of his friends once while he was at a get-together. The title stayed stuck in his head. 

This was a strange movie. Brain-dead people shuffling around, running into windows. He’d never thought that up before. It was frightening in every sense of the way. Maybe it was a bad idea to watch it alone. Just as he was really getting into it he heard a noise so loud it echoed. He jumped up. Pausing the movie he stayed silent, listening for anything else out of the ordinary. More noises, they sounded like they were coming from the garage. 

Quickly he overcame his fear and grabbed a baseball bat. He threw the door open that led to the garage, flipping the light on. There was a man there, he fell back holding both his hands up. 

“Hey you there, don’t you–” Paul shouted. 

Just as the man was going to run out Paul pressed the remote button, closing the garage door, the man ran head first into it knocking himself unconscious. 

Any normal person would have called the cops, but Paul didn’t. He overlooked the man. It was pretty cold outside but this guy was wearing thin clothing, holes here and there in the fabric of his sweatshirt. Something significant was that he was wearing a leather vest. It was probably the only thing of real value on him. Didn’t look like life had treated him kindly. Sandy blonde hair, and a graying goatie, he probably belonged in a biker bar, certainly not here. It was a pretty nice neighborhood. 

Paul ran back to the kitchen, looking through the freezer for a frozen bag of peas. Then again why did it have to be peas? He did find blueberries so that would have to suffice. When he returned he knelt at his side, smoothing the hair off his forehead, then placing the frozen bag against his skin. The man flinched, coming to. 

He squinted, then blinked a couple of times, trying to focus on the light over the both of them. 

“Looks like you hit yourself pretty hard. You okay?” Paul chuckled, smiling warmly. 

“Fuck,” the man groaned. As soon as he regained his senses he flinched and moved away from Paul. “Are you one of those serial killer freaks? Let me go!”

“Nothing’s holding you here,” Paul shrugged. “Were you trying to steal from me or were you looking for shelter?”

“I ah–I dunno. I need to go. You don’t gotta call the cops.”

“I-I’m not,” Paul stood up, concerned with this man’s well-being. “Hey tell me your name.”

“No, why? So you could report me?” he spat out.

“I’ll give you a twenty if you tell me your name.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” luckily Paul was going to order a pizza so he had a twenty dollar bill in his back pocket. He stretched out his arm, holding it towards the other man. Just as he was about to snatch it Paul pulled back, a mischievous smirk on his lips. 

“Fuck you. You hippie shit!”

“Name?”

“Daryl. It ain’t special. It don’t cost 20 dollars.”

“Apparently it does,” Paul smirked as he handed him the twenty, which Daryl grabbed like some kind of feral animal. “My name is Paul.”

Daryl held the twenty up to the light, squinting at it. “It’s real.”

“Yeah.”

“Paul huh? I ain’t giving you a twenty for that.”

“You know what. I’m putting it on your tab,” Paul’s eyes twinkled. It didn’t take long for Daryl to be enamored in him, and to be equally confused by his kindness. “Do you need help?”

“Nah. I was trying to steal your shit.”

Paul crossed his arms. “Had a hunch. It isn’t my shit. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

“Oh. So you’re like–”

Paul raised his eyebrows and sighed. “…yeah.” He looked a little irritated that in this time and age people had the gull to be shocked. 

“It ain’t right, ya know?” Half-heartedly Daryl murmured, as he scratched his nose and shrugged. He just echoed his own brother’s words, he didn’t really feel it at his core but he wasn’t sure just who he was when he was left alone to himself. 

“I don’t care. I don’t really need your approval.”

“Well shit. We’re all going to hell anyway.”

“I like to think we all aren’t. But that kind of ignorance won’t get you anywhere,” Paul said pointedly. 

Daryl blinked at him, then dropped his head. “Sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I said sorry,” Daryl said a little louder, “And thanks…for the twenty.”

“Okay,” Paul stood up straight. “You’re welcome.”

Daryl turned so he could leave, trying to manually push the garage door open. “Bye.”

“Nah,” Paul cut in, “Come inside. You can come out the front door.” 


	2. Two Sides of a Coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Prompt: Their separate groups are very important to them. How did they tell them and how did they take the news?
> 
> Post All Out War and everyone is alive and swell. Michonne is close to Paul (inspired by the comics) meanwhile Daryl is close to Carol and these two queens know what's up before everyone else does. 
> 
> Again this was written in a rush and kind of thrown out there. This is pretty fluffy and cute. I liked the change of pace, honestly.

Michonne rode on horseback, Jesus riding beside her. They were both patrolling the area around Alexandria, relieved to fall back on gossip instead of talking about the more serious things they used to deal with on a regular basis.  

“I’ve known. I’ve known for a while,” she said smugly, her expressive eyes resting on Paul’s slouched form.

“Really,” he questioned, cocking any eyebrow. “I don’t normally tell anyone much about my personal life but—“

“I can keep a secret if that’s what you mean.”

“It’s not that, I’m just private. And well Daryl—he’s even more private.”

“I know. We’d talk way back when,” she sighed and looked at Paul seriously. “Back when we had the prison.”

“Oh.”

“I was dealing with a lot…we both were—he lost his brother, and I lost a very…” her lip trembled, “A close friend and we’d get drunk and talk.”

“He doesn’t touch the stuff anymore,” Paul nodded, holding his lips tight together.

“It was a dark time. And honestly in the back of my head, when I found my place with Rick and Carl, we stopped those talks. He needed them. Usually he wouldn’t say much, but having that comradery was something. I know it was something to me.  I was worried he’d feel alone but then I saw you two together.”

Paul blinked slowly, a smile spreading through his lips, “Were we that obvious?”

“No,” Michonne nodded side to side. “It was the little things that made me catch on.”

“Alright, Sherlock.”

Michonne chuckled, “I’d like to think I’m a sleuth, yes. Daryl would do things that were so out of character. When we’d go scavenging for food he’d always take little things. Before he’d do it for himself. He’d have a bag full of stuff he’d find that was worth keeping. He still has it on that motorcycle of his. But he’d start taking things like beanies or scarfs. Daryl isn’t a beanie and scarf person.”

“Heh,” Paul dropped his head and blushed.

“I knew that behavior. I’d do the same with Rick. Bringing back gag gifts that’d always make him smile. I liked to see him smile. I’m sure Daryl lives for your smile too.”

“Really?”

“It’s a pretty good one if I can so say myself,” Michonne teased.

“Stop it.”

“Then you two would disappear. No one seemed to say anything. Rick would always say you both were probably walking the perimeter. Perimeter, my ass.”

“I was so drawn to him. I couldn’t help myself.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It started with talking, honestly. It wasn’t all kissing.”

“So there was kissing,” Michonne laughed, Paul scoffed and then burst into laughter too.

\----------

Carol dropped what she was doing, focusing on Daryl who was idly sitting on the stool near the island where she was making dinner. She put down her rolling pin and dusted the flour off of her hands.

“Are you going to say something,” she said flatly.

Daryl shrugged and grunted, his eyes focused on a glass of water she had poured him just a minute ago.

“Okay, well stop doing what you’re doing,” Carol continued.

“I’m not doing nothing,” he mumbled. “What are you making?”

“None of your business.”

“Why,” he furrowed his brow.

“Because you’re here, doing nothing but staring.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a kid.”

“Stop acting like one then,” she laughed. “C’mon. What is it?”

“Things are better now right?”

“Uhh yeah,” she laughed, returning to her task. “Negan’s locked up. We have running water. No one’s dying anymore. Well people still die, but it’s from heart attacks. I’d say it’s the closest we’ve been to the good old days.”

“So shit’s settled then?”

“I pretty much just said that. What is going on with you?”

“I said it’s nothing.”

“You’re lovesick. Is it that guy?”

“What guy,” Daryl shifted uncomfortably.

“The one you sneak off with and kiss when you think no one’s missing you.”

“Shut up,” he tried his hardest to conceal his smile but Carol was nodding her head side to side, grinning ear to ear.

“A girl knows.”

“What?”

“No wonder you never got down with me. I know your type now. Pretty blue eyes and straight flowing hair, right out of a romance novel.”

“Shut up.”

“No,” she pointed.

“I said shut up,” he grabbed a handful of flour out of the bag, threatening to throw it at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” he threw it at her. Instinctively she grabbed the glass of water splashing it right back at him. She was covered in white powder and he was soaking, his hair hanging limp over his forehead. They were both laughing so hard Carl ran downstairs to see what was going on.

“What the hell,” Carl laughed, looking at the mess.

“I think this is the first time Daryl’s taken a bath,” Carol said, with her hands on her hips.

“What? I take baths,” Daryl smoothed his oily hair off his face. “I do.”

Neither Carl nor Carol seemed to believe him.


	3. Word of Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m running a day late on these now. Sorry but I’ll finish all of them no worries. Sorry for any typos. Hope you enjoy!

It was a small enough town where everyone knew everyone. The kids had their fun, destructive or not. There wasn’t much else to do living in a place that small. Everyone had their group and Daryl Dixon was on the outside of all of it. Sure he had his hang ups. He wasn’t the nicest in his class, and he wasn’t liked, not that he let himself be likable but he was sometimes the butt of the joke. His family was the biggest joke of all. Just to avoid conflict he sat in the very back in all his classes but it didn’t stop some of the guys in front row from cracking jokes about him. 

“Heh, how’s your dad doing huh,” one of them spat out. Daryl sank into his table, crossing his arms and looking out the window. “Hey I’m talking to you!”

“Hey he asked a question,” one of the other guys chimed in. “Least you gotta do is respect him with an answer.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Daryl grumbled. Everyone else in class was watching. The teacher up front was a substitute, the radio was on, everyone was on their phones, bored. This was remedial math, the bar was set so low that the substitute acted like more of a spectator. 

“His dad got caught beating a whore last night. She said he didn’t want to pay for services rendered,” a girl laughed out loud, apparently also a part of their crew. “He’s so broke he can’t even pay a girl to fuck him.”

“I said shut up,” Daryl grabbed his books and started shoving them into his backpack. 

“Looks like you’re staying a virgin, Dixon.”

“Fuck you, least I ain’t getting off with my cousin,” said Daryl

“Who said?” The lead guy’s eyes grew wide. Tommy Sheldon, or as he liked to go as, Tommy Boy, was a big guy. A huge hulking guy and Daryl probably would have been scared if he hadn’t already lost touch with all his emotions besides anger. With a father like his, he could handle anyone else. 

“Everyone knows she gave you a handy at your daddy’s cookout.” 

All his classmates murmured among themselves, Tommy suddenly looking like the fool.

Daryl knew perfectly well the second he left he’d get his ass kicked but at least he stood up for himself in front of everyone else. He had that much pride left in him. 

As he walked out the room and down the hall he heard them coming after him. The substitute probably still lounging in her chair, texting her friend on the phone about what went down. Great. Nothing different. Another Dixon causing a big fuss. 

Daryl turned and dropped his backpack, staring straight up at Tommy, cracking his knuckles.. “C’mon give me what you got. I ain’t afraid.”

“Alright, pigfucker.” Tommy grinned, two of his friends came at either side of Daryl holding him still as Tommy landed the first punch. 

No fair. No fair at all.

—–

Bruised and battered Daryl walked alone behind the science building. Most times he’d hide there during lunch to avoid the kids laughing at him for not having lunch money. Standing near the bench leaning against a tree was the form of some guy. 

Daryl squinted and walked closer out of pure curiosity. He already had his pack out, ready for a smoke but whoever this was seemed to have stolen his smoking spot. 

“What the fuck are you doing,” Daryl spat out, swinging his arm. The guy looked around the tree, hiding his joint behind his back. He coughed, then blew out a cloud of smoke against his own will.

“Shit,” his eyes were wide, as he tried to fan the smoke away. “Is this your spot, sorry.” He cocked his eyebrow.

Once Daryl recognized him, he took a step back in surprise, “You smoking a blunt?”

“Yeah,” the guy smiled warmly. “Helps me think.”

“You’re Paul. You’re one of the smart kids.”

“I’d like to think so,” Paul smirked. “Good grades are my one way ticket out of this wet fart of a town.” 

“That shit won’t keep you smart,” Daryl pointed at the blunt. Paul’s trademark smile became a smug grin.

“I beg to differ,” he swayed. “This isn’t the first time .”

“I saw your name on the top of our class,” Daryl nodded. 

“You know my name? Why? We never had a class together.”

His name was Paul Monroe. The name just sort of stuck. Daryl vividly remembered reading it off his name tag when he was in mandatory tutoring. He showed up but didn’t ask any questions. Over and over Paul passed by his desk. His piercing green eyes ripped him open and made him vulnerable in a way he’d never known before. There was plenty of material he didn’t understand that he could have asked about but he stuttered, he dropped his pencil and about as cool as ever Paul picked it up and handed it to him. 

“Everyone knows everyone here.” Daryl tried to play it off like it was nothing, like he didn’t feel every part of himself tensing up at that moment.

“I certainly know who you are,” chuckled Paul. 

“Don’t start.”

“You’re different,” Paul said softly tilting his head back. “A lot of people say you’re an asshole.” 

“People say you’re a suck up,” Daryl shot back. 

Paul stayed still, unaffected meanwhile Daryl was pacing back and forth. “Want to ditch? I can ditch. It’s all electives after lunch.” 

“You ain’t mad,” Daryl looked confused, Paul just shrugged, putting out his blunt and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. 

“I can see why it looks that way. I know that’s not the case, what is there to be upset about then? So do you want to ditch or not?” 

——–

Daryl sat in the middle of the kitchen as he watched Paul heating up some leftover pizza in the microwave. Paul disappeared behind the refrigerator door and handed Daryl an ice pack.

“For your head,” Paul nodded, Daryl cautiously took it from him. “I have tylenol if you need that too.”

“Nah I’m fine. Used to it.”

Paul paused and leaned against the kitchen counter giving Daryl a concerned look. He licked his lips before speaking. “What happened?”

“Inbred assholes. What else do you think happened?” 

“Well, I can connect the dots now. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Eh.” 

“You live way up there in the woods. What do you do there?”

“Nothing,” Daryl looked up at Paul, then moved his eyes away as he chewed on his fingernail. “Ain’t much to do but get lit and hunt.” 

“And you like that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think much about it.” 

“Well,” Paul sighed, “Mi casa es su casa.”

Daryl grunted, then for a split second Paul thought he saw what he could make of a smile. “Your parents wouldn’t want me around.”

“My parents don’t give in to stupid gossip,” Paul leaned back and pulled the pizza out of the microwave, handing it to Daryl. “If I say you’re good, they’ll believe me.” 

“Okay,” Daryl tried to hide the blush that spread through his face by lowering his head down, nervously picking the toppings off his pizza and shoving it into his mouth. 

After eating they went back to Paul’s room. He threw himself stomach first onto the bed and pulled out his laptop, tinkering with it for a while before noticing Daryl was still standing at the door. 

“C’mon,” Paul pat the bed. “But close the door behind you, okay?”

Daryl nodded and closed the door with a click. He looked around seeing toys, awards, posters of cute guys in bands that Daryl figured he couldn’t begin to compete with. At the corner of his room he had an acoustic guitar which Daryl went to inspect. 

“You play,” Daryl asked.

“I tried,” Paul sat up, brushing the hair off of his face. “Some part of me wishes I could start a band, grow out my hair, even a beard. But I’m still a kid and I’m still here. So baby steps I guess.”

“Hmm,” Daryl’s lip curved upwards, then rubbed his chin. “I tried growing stubble but it’s all patchy.”

“I remember,” Paul laughed. 

“Yeah,” Daryl furrowed his brow, his heart jumping in his chest, “You noticed?”

“I do have eyes Daryl,” Paul joked. “What?” he looked up from his computer, a sultry look in his eye, “You think I’m your fan club president?”

“Pfft, nah.” Daryl sat next to Paul, feeling himself sink into the mattress. He was really there with Paul of all people. His palms were sweating and as usual Paul was just there without a single care in the world. “You got so much,” Daryl heard himself say. He beat himself up a second after.

Paul turned to him and nodded, “Yeah I know. I’m thankful really. I turn on the news and I see all these different lives I could have lived. I want to do what I can to help but donating a dollar to all these charities doesn’t really put me at ease.” 

“I just do what I can for myself.”

“Self preservation isn’t a bad thing.”

“Shit. You use a lot of big words.”

“I read a lot,” Paul nudged him, rubbing his shoulder against Daryl’s. “Want to play video games? Huh? I got all the good ones.”

Daryl blinked looking straight into Paul’s warm eyes and nodded. 

————

There was a knock on Paul’s door. He had heard through his open window his mom had gotten home from work. Paul sighed and paused the game, both him and Daryl were sitting on the floor dangerously close to the tv screen. 

“What Mom?”

She opened the door and was startled to see Daryl there, she quickly calmed down and smiled. “Hey Paul, who is this?”

“Daryl, he’s from school,” Paul fixed his hair and sat up straight. 

“Okay. Well you know the rules.”

“Ugh,” Paul rolled his eyes. “I’m turning 18 in six months already.”

“As long as you’re here you have to leave the door open.”

“Okay. Alright.” 

And with that she left. Daryl looked at Paul curiously. 

“She know about the drugs,” he said under his breath.

“Oh god no,” Paul laughed. “It’s just I had a boyfriend once and she ran in on us well…we weren’t doing it but–”

“Oh,” Daryl’s eyes grew round. 

“It was getting pretty well…heavy…there was heavy petting,” Paul adorably scrunched up his face, trying to think of the right words to use. Daryl blinked and licked his lips, blushing about as fiercely as Paul was. 

“So you had a boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I had to move and well, we had to break up. It was bad, I thought he was the love of my life but then again I was fifteen. There’s still more…” Paul looked at Daryl’s lips, then his blue eyes. “Fish in the sea.”

Daryl swallowed and looked down bashfully. Sometimes staring at him really felt like staring at the sun. He knew he shouldn’t do it, it always left him feeling so mixed up inside. “Uhh.” 

“Sorry about mom. She’s paranoid. She probably sees that you’re cute and my type,” Paul knew perfectly well he was trying to coax some sort of reaction from Daryl, but at that point the poor guy had shut down. 

“Cute? Me?,” Daryl put down the controller and was horrified to see just how sweaty it was. He started wiping it down with his shirt, but he could still feel Paul’s eyes on him. 

“Would you uh–” Paul paused and held his lips together, feeling a little nervous himself. “Like to be my boyfriend? I mean it could be so nice. And I know there’s a high probability you wouldn’t be into that sort of thing but maybe you can give me a chance?”

Daryl had to really take a step back and realize that Paul was actually trying to persuade him. For the longest time Daryl never thought Paul would need to convince someone to be his boyfriend. He was so eloquent and attractive but here he was and well…there he was. And to be honest this whole thing was perfectly simple. 

“Yeah,” Daryl nodded, staring straight forward at nothing in particular. He was prepared for his dad to have a shitfest but then again he didn’t really need to know and if he found out it was about to time to leave that shit town anyway. And maybe if things went right, maybe he could leave with Paul. The both of them just riding off into the sunset. 

“Oh,” Paul beamed. “Okay.” He looked back at the tv screen, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “Let’s play?” 

He unpaused, but then Daryl paused it again. 

“Can I kiss you,” Daryl said in a hoarse mumble. Paul went stiff and nodded a little too excitedly. 

With the go ahead Daryl bravely leaned in, cupping Paul’s cheek as he planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Almost immediately Paul sighed, he pulled him in closer, kissing him again and again. 

“Paul,” his mother had returned, with her hands on her hips. She meant business obviously and Paul knew he was in for the nag of the lifetime. She let out a breath and relaxed at least for the moment. “Is he staying for dinner or?”

“Yeah,” Paul laughed, wiping his mouth. Daryl rubbed his knees and gave Paul’s mom an apologetic look. 

Daryl was easy to forgive, Paul and that smirk of his, not so much. 

 


End file.
